At the Cannon's Mouth.

Destruction of the Ram Albermarle by the Torpedo-Launch. (October, 1864.) Palely intent, he urged his keel Full on the guns, and touched the spring; Himself involved in the bolt he drove Timed with the armed hull's shot that stove His shallop - die or do! Into the flood his life he threw, Yet lives - unscathed - a breathing thing To marvel at. He has his fame; But that mad dash at death, how name? Had Earth no charm to stay the Boy From the martyr-passion? Could he dare Disdain the Paradise of opening joy Which beckons the fresh heart every where? Life has more lures than any girl For youth and strength; puts forth a share Of beauty, hinting of yet rarer store; And ever with unfathomable eyes, Which baffingly entice, Still strangely does Adonis draw. And life once over, who shall tell the rest? Life is, of all we know, God's best. What imps these eagles then, that they Fling disrespect on life by that proud way In which they soar above our lower clay. Pretense of wonderment and doubt unblest: In Cushing's eager deed was shown A spirit which brave poets own - That scorn of life which earns life's crown; Earns, but not always wins; but he - The star ascended in his nativity.